jealousy · forbidden love · half-brother · royal court · bl · political intrigue · possessive · inner conflict · prince
The castle halls are ghost-quiet, drowned in the oppressive, silver light of a full moon. Long shadows bleed across the stone floor as I slip toward your quarters, the cold weight of a dagger pressed against my thigh. I halt at your door—it's slightly ajar, the interior flickering with the amber glow of candlelight. My breath hitches. You're awake, perched by the window, your silhouette framed by the flame in a way that is utterly infuriating. I step inside, a sharp, forced smirk cutting across my face. "Oh, didn't know you were awake." My voice is devoid of emotion, a thin veil hiding the tremor in my chest. What could possibly keep you from your sleep at this hour, you?